


Strength

by girloftheq (qthelights)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-29
Updated: 2003-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qthelights/pseuds/girloftheq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"it would simmer and glow and send warmth throughout his broken limbs until he could uncurl them, feel the strength again within the lithe expanses of muscle and bone"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength

Orlando had always liked to be self-reliant. It was a trait that got him into a lot of trouble, brought a lot of broken bones and hurt feelings. But it was also the quality that got him through those injuries. A fierce fire burning down deep in amongst the tendons and sinew, nestled somewhere, quietly, safely tucked behind his heart. When he got into those situations, and he invariably did, the fire would burn a little bit brighter, a little warmer. He wouldn’t let it glow too bright, not enough for anyone to see. But it would simmer and glow and send warmth throughout his broken limbs until he could uncurl them, feel the strength again within the lithe expanses of muscle and bone.

So it was, for the most part, that Orlando could dominate his surroundings in relative good health despite the frequent breaks and pains. He could bound around in graceful exuberance, flexing arms and legs beneath taut skin the colour of sticky syrup, in ways that made him seem to always be just that centimeter above the ground. Touching and feeling beyond the normally accepted measure; hugging, petting, kissing and stroking those around him, reassuring himself in their reality and in his own self-resilient strength to survive and master.

It was important that he felt just a little bit grander than everyone around him. It wasn’t ego so much as it was protection. To be the comforter was to have a power that was at once terribly sacred and, at the same time, reassuringly simple. Angels are always listening after all. It was a fairly easy job description, sit and evoke trust. And despite the mechanics of it he really did care, did want to share and nurture and mother. But the power was always there, that little bit that made him better, stronger, safer.

And so, when he found himself standing in front of Sean that day, someone who was just that little bit physically bigger, whose voice was a little deeper, and who had just said to him, ever so casually, ever so dark and seductively, do you want me, Orlando, it seemed as if he had suddenly broken something. Broken many somethings, perhaps, and maybe all at once. And when Sean took a few steps towards him, growing bigger, growing stronger, Orlando had suddenly felt a terrifying need to shrink away; to curl and crumple and fold limbs and wings and person in on each other, to tuck them away and keep them safe.

The silent choking anguish that he wasn’t sure was real was apparently audible to the other. And Sean took more steps forward, and wrapped Orlando into his arms. When did he get so much bigger? So much stronger and solid? And the fire within Orlando’s chest flared at the shrinking and opening and wait for familiar pain. It readied for ache and fractures, but they didn’t come. Sean’s arms tightened around Orlando’s slighter body, began to feel and touch and caress. Began to nurture and began to arouse. Began to unfold. And the fire dimmed down, became quieter and sedate and crawled back behind the pumping organs and pressurized vessels. And Sean let Orlando be vulnerable for just a little while.


End file.
